The Underwhelming Bridge

I write from possibly one of the most peaceful places on earth – a deserted beach bar! But it’s along a long jetty, so I am effectively in the sea.  When I say deserted, I don’t mean deserted in the same way that the deserted slave fort I accidentally slept at in Ghana, was deserted, I mean that there is nobody else here, save for a couple of ubiquitous staff and a friendly Alsatian.  I’m not going to eat here for two reasons – firstly, I’m not hungry at the moment; secondly, it’s never a good indicator for a restaurant if nobody is eating in it (I mean, within, rather than “innit”) – if the food was good, people would be eating.  I’m sipping a bottle of Coke, in a reassuring glass bottle.  I’m not complaining about the lack of company – the general public are around so often – everywhere one goes, in fact.

The walk here has been spectacular and peaceful – I walked up the beach from where I am staying, crossed the bridge which connects the north and south islands of San Pero – I have never seen a more underwhelming bridge.  The bridge I played Pooh Sticks on in the Ashdown Forest on my Bronze Duke of Edinburgh expedition made more of a statement than the north/south San Pedro bridge.

Prior to this, the morning had been interesting – I agreed with myself that I would do something unique today that one can only do here.  But I am about as far removed as one can be from being an adventurous activities type.  Although I remember when I decided that I would go whitewater rafting on the Nile in Jinja, Uganda, but only because Gandhi once had, or something like that. 

I think it’s the risk factors which are overwhelming.  I am a safeguarding trainer so see risk everywhere.  This is good, but it does make one think twice about doing anything.  That said, one week at Rainbows, we hired an ice-rink and took 160 Rainbows and their families ice-skating, without incident.  Three weeks later, in a regular Rainbow meeting, a Rainbow leaned over another Rainbow to see something, and ended up getting a pencil in the eye and having to go to hospital.  Yes, fear not, the correct forms were competed and submitted, don’t worry.  My point is that accidents often happen in the most innocuous of settings.

I thought about hiring a golf buggy but realistically, what if I hit someone, or accidentally drive into the sea? What if I run over an animal? I thought about hiring a bicycle, but what if I fall off and get a head injury? What if I get a puncture? What if it gets stolen? I didn’t read the small print of my shiny new travel insurance policy – in fact, now I think about it, I didn’t read any of it – in fact, I didn’t even download it – I was too excited about the £7.50 easyfundraising donation that purchasing the policy generated.  Oh gosh, that doesn’t sound good, does it? Obviously, if I was leading a group I would have analysed the policy and its minutiae in great detail.

I met a lady who was walking two little Highland Terriers.  She was holidaying from Florida with her large brood of children and grandchildren and was taking a welcome break from them.  The dogs took to me as they sensed that I am a Dog Whisperer.  In the hostel this morning, I saw a poster from a local dog’s home where people can turn up and walk the stray dogs! I thought of how my various #DogFriends love their walks and was tempted, but then I remembered the rabies risk.  I think I had a rabies jab a while ago, but I’m not sure how those antibodies are doing (see yesterday’s post about the bamboozling change of heart by those yellow fever antibodies) – that was bizarre, as I wrote the bit about the dog, the resident Alsatian came and lay down next to me! I truly am the Dog Whisperer.  Moving back to the rabies risk, I don’t know if this still applies, but the rabies jab doesn’t prevent rabies, it just gives you more time to get to hospital, before you die.  I think on balance I will skip the dog-walking idea. 

The lady from Florida told me that she had taken the dogs on the aeroplane with her.  I think possibly they were Emotional Support Animals – I read an article about them in The Guardian recently.  In the US, you can register an animal as an Emotional Support Animal – there are all sorts of stories of people registering dogs, cats, peacocks and piglets.  The other people on the plane are not necessarily ok with this – imagine if the Australian with the weak bladder on my transatlantic flight had had an emotional support piglet with him – I might have made a #PigletFriend.

I had a spot of hammock time in that deserted beach bar, lost in my thoughts, still in disbelief that I am in such a beautiful place.  I walked on and on and on, around five miles or so.  I saw so many lizards of varying shapes and sizes, some huge iguana-types were sunbathing, other tiny weeny lizards scurried across my path as they felt my light footsteps. 

I walked along the beach most of the time, across the front of a wide variety of types of accommodation – exquisite beachfront hotels with uniformed staff, angry signs about the sun-loungers being for residents only; tiny shack-like beach bars, one of which had a swimming pool attached which could be used by bar-users – part of me wished I had put my swimming stuff on (especially my new tiny tank), so that I could have plunged in.  The heat was intense, although the sun less so – I had awoken to a monsoon this morning, which cooled the sun; there was another thunderstorm this evening; I had dinner in the restaurant here, watching the world go by and gathering my thoughts, before evacuating to a covered part of the hostel when the wind made things fly around.  The locals are totally unfazed by the thunderstorms and it is business as usual.  Apart from my diving course – the fish don’t like the rain, so they cancelled the diving today.  I have booked myself onto a half-day diving course tomorrow morning – yes, really.  It’s for absolute beginners, so should suit me.  I put a snorkel on once, on a jaunt to the Kenyan coast on the mysterious island of Lamu, after spending a semester studying African Christian Theology in Uganda in 2005, as you do.  That was shortly before all of my stuff was stolen from a long-distance bus in Mombasa – to this day, I do not put things in overhead storage areas on any transport.  I say all of my stuff, it was just clothes and travelling bits and bobs, my valuables were strategically stashed about my person, obviously; but it was disconcerting nonetheless as I wasn’t aware I was being robbed.  Anyway, tomorrow shall be my diving day – isn’t that a Rutter Christmas carol? Oh no sorry, that’s ‘Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day’.  Well it certainly shalln’t be that.

Further along the beach, I met another friendly Alsatian puppy, with an American lady who has lived here for seven years, since her husband died.  She couldn’t quite believe how far I had walked.  We chatted for a while.  That is the joy of travel – you spend a few minutes with a person, learn a little about them and often their dog, wish them well, then probably never see them again. 

I walked back towards the hostel, partly along the beach, partly along the road, dodging the multitude of golf buggies.  Just after crossing the underwhelming bridge, I bumped into someone I had met at breakfast who offered me a lift back in her golf buggy, so I did get to travel in a golf buggy.  I haven’t been in a golf buggy since we took all the Rainbows, Brownies, Guides and soon-to-be Rangers, to footgolf at Birchwood Golf and Country Club in July, although I don’t think their golf buggies go on the roads.  If I was here for longer, I might have hired one as they certainly speed things up.  I had thoughts of heading to ‘Secret Beach’ which is on the other side of the island, but I have my suspicions that it isn’t that secret, due to being on lots of maps.  So I’m quite happy to have wandered, making friends with people, their dogs, and a plethora of lizards.